


the king of books

by Amber



Series: Create Something Every Day! (October 2018) [19]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood, Kissing, M/M, October Prompt Challenge, Tarot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-06 05:48:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16382549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amber/pseuds/Amber
Summary: Prompt 21: Oracle.





	the king of books

Elias Bouchard isn't a stage magician. You can't beat someone to death with a pipe _and_ clean yourself of all blood in the scant five minutes it takes to smoke a cigarette. So he doesn't wait a beat, turns on his heel away from the empty room and starts looking for telltale signs of Bouchard's passing.

(He's distressed. Of course he's fucking distressed. Leitner had seemed so small and grey, and he bled like any other man. Evidence of that much covered his office. As a kid he'd been raised to think of Leitner as a god, a modern day Crowley, worthy of the dark worship he commanded. But Leitner, like his mother, was just a collector trying to harness and understand the ineffable.)

His cards are in his hands by the time he reaches Bouchard's office. The original tarot deck was useless by the third statement he took in person, so he'd shaped them into a changing oracle, and he's gotten better at using them. Draws the yellow door almost intuitively, and uses it to step inside.

"I could have sworn I locked that," says Elias, looking up, irritated and pleased. 

Elias is a mess, even stripped to his waist, his shirt and jacket in the wastepaper basket. He's poured the contents of a water bottle into a bowl from his display shelves, and is dipping tissues in it to try and wipe away the blood on his forearms, spattering his face, but he isn't doing a very good job.

Gerard draws another card. It's gruesome to look at too long, all teeth and yawning mouth. He circles the desk and touches the foiled edge of it to Elias' bare collarbone. Watches as the card draws in and soaks up the blood. Wonders if it could drink every splash in his office and leave it pristine or if someone's already come looking for him and found it. Martin will probably call the police. He's made it very clear these last few months what he thinks of Gerard Keay as his boss.

"I don't know what the fuck you think you're doing," Gerard tells Elias flatly, "But this is the end of it."

Elias huffs a breath out his nose like he finds that funny. "Is it? What are you going to do, turn me in?"

"That's not what I meant," Gerard says. "We're on the same side, you prick. If you're going to keep things from me so I have to do my own research, then so be it — that's how I've been educated my whole life, so why would you be any different. But stealing the cards, putting the assistants in danger, murdering a man _in my office_? At this point I've started to think you don't know any more than I do about what you're doing."

Aside from a raised eyebrow, Elias' face is a carefully constructed mask, which Gerard knows by now means he's struck a nerve. He's getting good at reading this sanctimonious bureaucratic waste of space. 

He swipes the card across that smug face, wiping up the blood like Elias is just a piece of furniture.

"What—"

"I'm helping," says Gerard. "We're in this together. You can't frame me, you _need_ me. Maybe more than I need you."

"That's a bluff," Elias says immediately. "Quite apart from the fact that I'm Head of the Institute at which you work, I know far more about the world you have found yourself in and what you will become than—"

"Is that why you killed him?" Gerard interrupts. "Because you were worried that if I had some other resource to learn about this stuff I'd ditch you? Honestly at this point you might be right." He laughs bitterly, swipes the card down Elias' chest. He flinches, and Gerard realizes it's cut him. Not a paper cut, either; a bite. He makes an exasperated noise and jams the card back into the deck.

"You treat the stories like simple tools," Elias says derisively, rubbing at the red mark with a wet hand. "But you do not understand the kind of power you're playing with."

"Then stop putting obstacles in my way and teach me," insists Gerard.

"Have you considered that perhaps that is what the obstacles are supposed to do?" Elias bites out. "Would you have mastered your deck without Prentiss' attack? Would you have learned to examine those around you for signs of the Stranger if Sasha hadn't—"

"Now is really not a good time to bring up Sasha," Gerard says with quiet malice, and shuffles his deck again, feeling out where the weapons in it are.

"Gerard," says Elias, and then, softer, "Gerry." Cruel. Gerard clenches his jaw. "You're right, that we're on the same side. I am only doing what is in our mutual best interest, I promise, even if my choices sometimes seem inscrutable or dramatic."

He lifts a hand and takes Gerard's chin, tips it out of its surly slouch and forces him to meet those pale eyes. Eye contact has always pinged something in his brain as aggressive, and never moreso than now, no matter how gently Elias is touching him. He can feel his adrenal gland waking up again, his fight/flight/freeze starting to kick into gear (and it will be fight, it's always fight.)

Then Elias kisses him.

It isn't the sort of kiss you can fake, not really. It's worshipful, passionate, full to the brim with adoration and respect. Gerard gives into it instantly — he's angry and introverted and greasy and gay, never learned how to flirt, hasn't had a lot of times in his life when he's been kissed. He puts a hand on Elias' bare chest and opens his mouth and kisses back for long, helpless moments. Is this a trick? A ploy? A deferment of the conversation? It doesn't matter, it doesn't really matter at all. He fucking hates this managerial sociopath and wants him all at the same time.

He pushes Elias violently away, breaking the kiss and sending him stumbling back. From the confusion on Elias' face it's clear it's not what he was expecting.

"I'm not letting you _fuck me_ , Elias," he says. "Physically or otherwise. My office is a crime scene. Sectioned Officers aren't going to play nice — Basira already knows I used my cards to make her give me tapes. Promotion is a brilliant motive for me knocking off Gertrude, too. They can wrap the whole case up in a neat little bow. You want me to pay attention to whatever you need from me? You want me to go to bed with you? Then you had better work out how to _fix_ this."

Elias looks steadily at Gerard for a long moment. Then: "Quite," he says. "But I'm afraid I do need Ms Hussein and Ms Tonner on the case. And I need _you_ doing fieldwork. But perhaps we can find a way to resolve this that works for all involved."

He lifts the cordless phone on his desk, taps in a number from memory. "Peter? Elias. Yes, hello. When are you next in London, old friend? Make it soon, if you can. I'm going to need a favour."

**Author's Note:**

> [hauntback drew some beautiful fanart of the bloody tarot card](http://hauntback.tumblr.com/post/179343319555/fellas-guess-who-read-some-good-good-fanfic-by), destroying me completely from joy.
> 
> 7/5 - [dariadraws drew some fanart of gerry and elias](https://dariadraws.tumblr.com/post/186055394155/were-on-the-same-side-you-prick-archivist), and now i am a ghost and will never finish this series.


End file.
